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The Tale of Papa Gnöb
The Tale of Papa Gnöb A Trevon story of oral tradition During an age long past, in these very hills, dwelled very many small, peculiar people we call Gnöbs. These squat men lived among our ancestors in harmony, teaching them many things which we now take for granted. From these Gnöbs, our ancestors learned things integral to our way of life, such as magic, smithing, and farming. Maybe even more important than these things, our predecessors learned how to live in peace with each other. During this era our people were the most happy that they had ever been, and possibly ever will be. You are probably wondering, “if these little lads are so great and powerful, where are they now?” Well, my friend, I shall tell you the tale of how the Gnöbs left our world. Donathan is born I don't know if you have learned yet how children are made, but as far as I am concerned you must only need know that two consenting adults are involved. You see, this story starts with a child. Not just any child, however, but a very special child. This child had parents like no other, one being a human and the other being a Gnöb. I'm not quite sure how this is possible, because I can tell you for a fact, based on what I know of human nature that many have tried this very same thing before to no avail, but the truth is, there has only been one true half-Gnöb in the history of our world. This lad was born to a lovely human woman named Vila. Vila named her special son “Donathan,” meaning gift, but everyone called him Don. Thus he remained for the rest of his childhood, which, strangely lasted forty-five years. You see, Gnöbs live much longer than us humans, which results in slower development. By the time he was forty, Don’s mother Vila had died, which is quite hard for the emotional equivalent of a thirteen year old to handle. After seeing to her burial, Don moved as far away from his home as he could, hoping to escape his endless despair. By what many consider happenstance, but what I know to be destiny, young Don stumbled his way to our glorious capital Dufrözh. Little Donathan was taken aback by the wonderful sights and smells of the city. He couldn't believe that so many people lived in the same place at once. He quickly delighted in the amenities that a city could offer, sparing no time to notice the atrocities that were seen as normal to city folk. After the first day, however, Don began to see the bad side of the big city. Donathan in the city Now, I know that I said our people were the happiest that they had ever been during the Gnöb age, but I haven't quite reached that part of our story yet. You see, the land was still full of horrible injustice. Those who were too poor or sick to afford the life that many desired were treated like filth. Prisoners who were serving time for such little things as stealing bread were publicly flogged. Humble merchants who were just trying to make their way through life were trodden on by the gilded boots of the upper class. What really got dear Donnie’s goat, however, was the way some of his fellow Gnöbs were treated. On his third day he saw a young Gnöb, about his age, stuffed in a cage and forced to dance to horrible Yídvian polka, all while the bystanders merely laughed and threw coins at him. Don couldn't handle this mistreatment, and he made his way over to the perpetrator. “Stop this horrible behavior at once!” Don screeched at the man who was currently slapping his knee in delight. “You should not treat anyone this way!” The man got up from his seat and stared at dear young Donathan with great anger in his eye. “Don't speak to me like that, boy! I'll have you in the pound like the dog you are!” And without a second thought, the towering man grabbed Don by the scruff of his neck and threw him to the local guard. They shoved him in a tiny cell without even second guessing their verdict, condemning Don to three months for “disrespecting his betters.” Donathan meets Grimble Gromble Luckily for Don, however, he shared a cell with a fellow Gnöb named Grimble Gromble. This old Gnöb had been in this cell alone for seventy years. A lifetime for a human, and equally as boring for a Gnöb. This old Gnöb was wise and knew many things, so when Grimble Gromble saw Donathan’s visage, he instantly knew to whom he was speaking. “Dear heavens, the day has finally come! It is an honor to speak to you Papa,” he said with a deep bow, his mustaches gently brushing the floor. “I've no idea what you're speaking of. Are you mistaking me for someone?” Don hadn't ever seen this man before, had he? “Surely you know who you are. There is no doubt in my mind that you are the fabled Papa Gnöb here to bring prosperity to our land.” “I'm sorry sir, but I'm not sure what fable you are talking about.” The old Gnöb looked up from his reverent bow, eyes like suspicious slits. “You must be joking. Well, we have all the time in the world, so I suppose a little story couldn't hurt.” So the old fart told Don the prophecy which I'm sure you are familiar with. It goes as follows: A woman of low standing conceives a child of Gnöb blood. This boy goes on to bring prosperity to the land blah blah blah nothing you haven't heard before. By the end of the story, Don looked at the old Gnöb in front of him. “That does sound an awful lot like me, doesn't it.” “Damn straight. Let's get out of here.” “What do you mean? Are we going to escape?” “Of course we are!” The old Gnöb reached beneath his bed and unraveled a pillowcase full of spoons, “I've been in here a while, of course I know my way out.” Papa Gnöb's escape So, using Grimble Gromble’s tools and Donathan’s wit, the two opened their cell door and every other door in the prison. By the time they reached the guardhouse they were two-hundred Gnöbs strong. They had no trouble pushing past the guards, and by the time they reached the royal palace they had at least doubled their count in men and Gnöbs alike. When they barged into the throne room, trailing behind Don was a party of at least 1,500 individuals dedicated to putting their rightful leader in his place. They had no trouble making an agreement with the king to abdicate from his throne, leaving the control of this fine country to the very Gnöb who was just thrown into prison a few hours prior. Don, who was now known as the great Papa Gnöb, appointed Grimble Gromble as his advisor and reigned as Trevińö’s finest king for at least a hundred and fifty years. When he was finally satisfied with his work as king, Papa Gnöb fulfilled his destiny of taking his kinsmen back to their homeland, where they will continue to prosper and return when we most need their help. He didn't leave without giving us something to remember, however. On his royal bed he left the first manuscript of the Gnomicon, a book filled with the wisdom he acquired during his long life. Scribes copied down his words and printed many more editions so everyone can benefit from his Gnöbly wisdom. next part comes from tradition and a classic part of the story, but it isn’t evidently true anymore, if ever it was at some point These days, very few Gnöbs are left in our world. For whatever reason, some Gnöbs were left behind during the exodus of Papa Gnöb. These Gnöbs do whatever they can to those who provide food and shelter for them. Build a shrine with offerings to your local Gnöbs and you will receive blessings galore.